


Heavy Morning

by orphan_account



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The walls of Roxanne's apartment are very thin. She does not realize this until a neighbor comes to tell her one early Sunday morning.<br/>---<br/>For setepenre_set in connection with their Code: Safeword series (It’s- just- go read it. Just do yourself a huge favor ad go read it). Great thanks to oddport-fiction for ironing out the wrinkles with me. The opening lines are pulled directly from CBS Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood, so I didn’t write that bit. Everything else though, *thumbs up*.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Morning

“And now, onto our next story,” said the television as Roxanne pulled the sugar down from the cabinet, “John Blackstone interviews Lee Loughnane, Robert Lamm, and Jimmy Pankow, three of the original members of the brassy rock band that’s been making hits for nearly 50 years. Today on Sunday Morning, we bring you this interview with the seemingly immortal band, Chicago.”

Roxanne cast a glance at the screen before turning to the refrigerator, nails tapping on the handle as she eyed the half-and-half, then the Baileys, before grabbing the freshly expired peppermint creamer from the very back.

She opened the lid, sniffed, paused, sniffed again. Shrugging, she poured a healthy measure.

The sounds of drums and a solo trumpet poured from her television, mingling with the heavy humidity to fill the room with seemingly solid sound. Two heaping spoonfuls of sugar later, Roxanne was leaning on the countertop, stirring her coffee with unthinking hands as she directed her attentions back to the broadcast. The story changed, the talking heads had moved onto something about holiday celebrations in France in the face of crippling national debt.

Her eyes flickered to the stairs.

She yanked her gaze back to the television, taking a long, burning drink from her coffee.

It wasn’t until later, when she heard the jingle and the spokesman say, “And now, on Face the Nation” that she realized the Sunday Morning news was over, that she realized she was looking at the stairs again.

Roxanne ran her thumb along the lip of her mug, her mind swimming backwards through the hours into the dark predawn of the morning when the apartment had been full of sound. She found herself smiling as an absentminded hand found its way up her neck.

There was a knock at the door.

Roxanne jerked, the hand that was curling its fingertips through the hair at the base of her skull jumping to clutch her throat, her gasp becoming lodged like a solid thing. Coughing, shaking out her morning hair, she raced to the door and looked through the spy hole.

“Yes?” she said, even though she saw no one.

“Hello. I’m your neighbor, in 125?,” Roxanne scowled at the peep hole, still unable to see anything until a tiny hand, clawed with arthritis, reached up and waved, “I just wanted to talk to you for a moment. It’s about the noise.”

“Noise?” Roxanne undid the deadbolt, then the chain, and opened the door to find a woman of no more than four feet tall on a good day standing just outside of her threshold.

“Oh dear,” the woman fiddled with a pristinely folded tissue that was tucked into the wrist of one jacket sleeve, then twisted her watch. For a moment, Roxanne found herself unable to breathe, but no, the lady was just a lady. The watch did nothing but tell the time, which the woman checked nervously, “Um, oh I do feel so silly, and I am so very sorry, you must understand. I’d rather it not be me, but the others are so-.”

“Ma’am, would you like to come in? Do you need help?” Roxanne opened the door wider, but the lady just laughed and waved a hand.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but no. I’ll make this as short as possible,” She looked away, fiddled with the tissue again, then looked back to Roxanne, “You, um, have company over, occasionally, yes?”

“Yes? Is- Is there a problem with parking?”

“No sweetheart. I keep telling you, there’s a problem with the noise.”

“Oh.” Roxanne’s brow furrowed, her position shifting to lean against the door, “What noise?”

“Oh dear. Um,” the woman clicked her tongue, “let me put it to you plainly,”

She took a deep breath, then looked Roxanne directly in the eye.

“Your sex is terribly loud.”

Roxanne must have looked as she felt, for the woman scuttled closer and said, in rushed words, “Oh no dear it’s perfectly fine. Well, no, it’s not perfectly fine, but, he seems nicer than the last one, so I am happy for you.” She patted Roxanne on the elbow, and all Roxanne could reply with was a hollow noise in the back of her throat, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, I really am, but please. Just-…could you just,”

She couldn’t see it, but Roxanne could hear the apartment door to the right opened and a very hoarse voice call out, “That you, Patti?”

The woman sighed, “Hello Bill.”

“Thought it was you,” there was a wet cough, and then, “You ask that girl to fuck a little quieter? Invest in a gag or something?” Roxanne squeaked. She could feel her face burning as she lost her grip on the door frame and slipped. The woman looked at her in alarm as the man continued, “I swear if you don’t tell, her I’m putting in a noise complaint. I swear, if you don’t tell her-”

“Oh!” the woman drew herself a full centimeter higher. She shook for a moment, then pointed a single, crooked finger in the direction of the voice, “Oh go suck an egg, Bill!”  
“Excuse me?”

“Just because the only thing that gets you excited nowadays is your bonsai doesn’t mean you have to be so rude. You- you go back into that apartment and you leave us alone, you understand? I’m talking to her now, you go away!”

There was the sound of sputtering, of anger and shock being on the cusp of form, then the door slammed. Roxanne could hear muffled screaming coming from the room.  
“That’s a good example of what you and your friend sound like, actually,” mumbled the woman, slouching once more as she fiddled with her tissue.

“He’d never go for it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The gag,” Roxanne was staring as far down the hall as she could from her position, eyes wide, breath shallow, “he- he doesn’t like me not being able to communicate. He doesn’t like-,” she stopped, and faced the woman with a look of slow dawning horror, but the lady was smiling broadly.

“Keep him,” she said.

Roxanne gaped at her. The woman gave a small laugh and patted her arm again, “Lord help me, I’m sorry if this sounds crude, but I’ve been married twice. I can tell the difference between feeling it and faking it. I can tell the difference between someone caring and someone not. If he wants to hear what you have to say, if he wants your input, honey, you keep him. If he’s making you happy, you keep him. Keep him and love every second.”

Roxanne realized she was smiling when she felt the curve of her mouth as she laughed, “I’ll do my best, Ma’am.”

“I know you will. Just-“ the woman winked, “just…maybe express your…louder opinions at his place? Or on Saturday? I visit a friend to play while Bill goes into the town over and tends to the capitol gardens. He says he stays at a lady friend’s place, but regardless of whether or not that’s true, I know he’s most certainly not here.”

“You are- you’re absolutely wonderful,” the woman gave a tittering laugh, “I heard him call you Patti. Is that your name? May I call you that?”

“Oh goodness yes, or Mrs. Turnbill. Whichever works for you.”

“Patti it is then,” Roxanne extended a hand, “My name is Roxanne Ritchi. It’s so nice to meet you”

“Oh I know your name, honey,” the woman winked again, and Roxanne felt the heat rise up her neck, “but yes, it’s nice to finally meet your properly. Now, you go and have a good day, okay? Maybe have that nice man of yours take you out for icecream. Go have fun.”

“I will, I promise.”

Roxanne made sure the woman was back in her apartment before shutting and locking the door. She stood there for a moment, basking in the warmth of the morning sun and her own personal bliss, before rushing over to pick her cell-phone off the table. She dialed from memory and smiled when he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, um…would you- today seems like icecream weather and I was wondering if you’d like to go get some with me.”


End file.
